Dean flicked at the pages of the thick English anthology book, looking ahead at other parts of the drama section.
“When Iago leaves the handkerchief in Cassio’s room, he is trying to once and for all to convince Othello that Desdemona is not faithful to him. Othello is still holding out, but finding the handkerchief that Desdemona promise she would always in the bedroom of another man is the final straw. Now gentlemen, if your girlfriend ever found a pair of panties under your bed that she knew were not hers you’d be in a very similar situation with a lot of explaining to do,” said the professor.
Dean rolled his eyes. Since they had started talking about Desdemona’s handkerchief their professor had always used a pair of panties under the boyfriend’s bed as an analogy to compare it to modern life. It wasn’t really Dean’s favorite seeing as his arguments were folded neatly in a drawer in his apartment and not under anybody’s bed, but that’s not the point. The point was that the words ‘what if they’re his’ had been at the tip of his tongue for the past week and it was getting ever so tempting to have them tumble right out. “What if they’re his?”
His professor blinked. “Pardon?”
“What if the panties were his?” A few titters ruffled through the classroom. “It ruins the analogy or whatever. Othello knows that the handkerchief is Desdemona’s, but this girlfriend doesn’t know that the panties are another girl’s; she’s just making assumptions.”
“Guy’s don’t wear panties,” said a guy two rows away.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because they’re for girls, duh.”
“That’s so heteronormative of you,” shouted a girl from across the room.
“And what about boy shorts? Are girls not allowed to wear them because they’re ‘too masculine’?” added another.
“What does hetero whatever have to do with it? Guys shouldn’t wear panties. Ew.” said a girl, a look of disgust on her face.
“You’re just feeding into the toxic masculinity culture,” said another boy.
“Not to mention so many girls get their panties from Victoria Secret’s. Do you know how many could be wearing the exact same design right now?” asked another girl.
“People, people, it’s just an analogy,” said the professor. He turned back to Dean. “I will admit there are some…flaws to it, but nonetheless it is just a device used to make you think critically about the play. Now if you can all redirect this passion into the discussion about the play I think we can have a great class discussion…”
By the time class ended Dean gave zero shits about Othello and was disgusted by the some of the people he shared a classroom with. The moment 12:15 hit he was out of the classroom and down the hallway. “Dean! Your name is Dean, right?” He turned around and saw a guy walking towards him. He was the one who said something about toxic masculinity. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve been thinking that all week, but I was afraid of the outcome.”
“It wasn’t too bad. It could have been worse. What’s your name again? I’m sorry I can’t remember.”
“You’re not bad, Castiel. Thanks for defending me.”
He blushed. “It would have been hypocritical of me not to.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Castiel looked down at the floor. “Um, yes?”
“Do you wanna go get lunch together? Dining hall’s shit, but we could go to the student center instead.”
They walked up the basement stairs to the doors. “By the way it would have been hypocritical of me not to defend you if you brought it up first.” Cas stared at him with wide eyes. Dean laughed. “Maybe you’ll get a peek sometime, if you want.”
Dean’s face flushed as crimson as the panties he was currently wearing. Lunch should be interesting.
